


The Road to Nowhere

by muses_circle



Series: We All Fall series [13]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Mentions of Sex, Post-episode: s04e11Family Remains, Pre-episode: s04 e12 Criss Angel is a Douchebag, mentions of cheating on partner, mentions of drinking blood, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:54:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23667205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muses_circle/pseuds/muses_circle
Summary: Follow me under and pull me apart/I understand there's nothing left/Pain so familiar and close to the heart/No more, no less, I won't forget. - Without You, Breaking Benjamin
Relationships: Ruby/Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester/Emma Boudreaux, Sam Winchester/Original Female Character(s)
Series: We All Fall series [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1059086
Kudos: 1





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t own anything that belongs to Kripke. The OFC is mine, as are all of her mistakes. At this point in my AU, the story shifts pretty greatly from the canon on the show. In this case, the only time Sam ever slept with Ruby was in the summertime, between his leaving Emma behind and Dean rising from the dead. Ruby’s motivation in tormenting Emma like this hopefully will become apparent as I post the rest of this story.

She bent over the magnifying glass and studied the photograph, aged and yellowing. Being a part-time researcher for the local history museum wasn’t much, but Emma enjoyed the work nevertheless. It provided the opportunity to dig into histories and lose herself.  
  
Since the highlight of her life recently included haggling with insurance adjusters, locating her old hunter contacts, and seeking out the rise in violent incidents in the area, she wanted the mundane task of locating the origins of donated pieces. Better to hide from the truth – that the demon Lillith was breaking seals to end the world – than to face it.  
  
Emma cursed her cowardice, her longing to keep her head buried in the sand and go on pretending that nothing was wrong. It would be like being stranded on railroad tracks and ignoring the screaming freight train barreling towards her: impossible to ignore because this “end of the world” thing was too big, too important.  
  
With a sigh, she pushed her work away and stared and her computer screen. Part of her wished she could take a more active role in this endgame. Saving the world seemed a little more urgent than cataloging artifacts for the museum’s newest collection. However, since she had no means of tracking Lillith and little skills to call herself a hunter, Emma continued to help out in any way she could: namely, pass along any information to Bobby, in the hopes that Sam and Dean could get it and find it useful.  
  
The image of Sam and Dean lingered in her mind. She had tried contacting both of them, but neither had returned her calls. In fact, she hadn’t heard anything about the since they left town two months earlier. Sam’s emails stopped, as did the text messages; her attempts at tracking them down proved fruitless. It was as if they had fallen off the face of the earth. Except for hearing through Bobby that they were alive, Emma had no idea where the Winchesters were, or what they were doing. The uncertainty disturbed her more than the hurt over being dropped like a piece of trash.  
  
Emma blew a wayward curl out of her eyes and stared at the blank screen in front of her. It mocked her, reminded her of her seeming empty life: the job, the apartment, the uncertain future with the man she loved. _My life’s enough to depress anyone._  
  
“You look like you’re going to toss the computer out the window. Maybe I should come back later.”  
  
Emma looked up and over to the source of the unfamiliar voice. A petite, brunette woman stood in the doorway. “Can I help you?” she asked.  
  
The other woman stepped into the room and clicked her tongue. “Depends. Are you Emma Boudreaux?”  
  
Something was off about the person who sauntered towards her. The face was pretty, but hard as stone, her gait more like a boss monitoring her employees’ work than a guest in the collections office. Her air was empty of any emotion except arrogance. When Emma could see her eyes – dark, cold, heartless – she suspected that the person now standing before her wasn’t completely human.  
  
Emma nodded and rose from her chair to meet the other woman. “And you are . . . ?”  
  
“Sam never told you? I’m hurt.” Her voice was sarcastic. She threw Emma a mocking look.  
  
_Ah, she knows Sam._ “You’re Ruby.”  
  
“Got it in one.”  
  
“What do you want?” Emma asked. A sudden chill went up her spine, so she crossed her arms to keep from shuddering. _Why is she here? This can’t be good._  
  
Ruby sauntered around Emma, running her finger along the edge of the table. “Just wanted to meet the woman who tugs on Sammy’s heart strings,” she replied. “Figures you’d be a brunette. Sammy’s a sucker for dark-haired ladies, isn’t he?”  
  
Emma bristled at the way Ruby spoke his name – much like a lover’s caress. “What does it matter how Sam and I feel about one another? It’s none of your damn business,” she said, praying her voice sounded dull and flat, and masking the riotous emotions churning in her stomach.  
  
With a shrug, she turned around. “Couldn’t care less. Who Sam decides to screw is his business, unless . . .” The demon hesitated, looking at Emma with an unfathomable look.  
  
Emma frowned. “Unless, what? I don’t understand – ”  
  
A flash of triumph flickered in her eyes. “Unless you managed to give him some nasty STD,” Ruby finished and shuddered. “I really like this body and don’t want it to get sick and die.”  
  
The implication nearly knocked Emma from her feet. As it was, she found it hard to breathe. “What are you saying?” she managed to get out.  
  
The demon smirked and moved close to Emma. “I just thought since Sam’s screwing me now – and that boy can fuck you into next week – “ Her voice dropped into a threatening whisper, ”I want to know if you protected him, _whore_.”  
  
For a moment, Emma felt her mind float free from the constraints of her physical body. This wasn’t real: Sam would never do this to her, never. The fact that Ruby was here, bragging about how good a lover Sam was, how she assumed Emma was a whore, was ludicrous. She wished she could sit, but her legs wouldn’t move. The light-headedness grew worse, her head spinning with denials, realizations, and spinning grief.  
  
Suddenly it all made sense: Sam’s silence. There could only be one reason why he’d choose it. Part of her refused to accept this betrayal, but as her mind reconnected with her body, a little voice inside whispered to her. _He’s screwing a demon. He doesn’t love you. Probably never did._  
  
The crushing feeling on her chest made it impossible to breathe, like someone had wrapped heavy chains around her ankles and tossed her into the Mississippi River. She was drowning. “No way, he . . . wouldn’t do that.” Her voice sounded distant, distorted.  
  
Ruby giggled and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “He can’t help himself. A few drops of my blood and he practically climaxes. Since you’re never around to service him, I might as well.” She wore a mockingly apologetic look. “Sorry, didn’t he tell you? Oops.”  
  
_Blood? Sam was drinking blood and having sex with a demon?_ Emma felt her lips moving but didn’t hear anything that she might have said. The dull roar of her heart pounding – breaking with each beat – was all she could hear. She shut her eyes to stave back the tears, the flood of emotion that would kill her if she allowed it to surface. Damned if she would show Ruby how much her words hurt. However, the demon was gone when Emma opened her eyes again.  
  
Her legs unable to hold her weight any longer, Emma fell back into her chair. Life as she knew it had been irrevocably changed – destroyed by a demon hell-bent on hurting her, she told herself. Never could she believe Sam would betray her in the most horrible way possible. Why, then, did that voice in her head tell her otherwise? Why else would Sam refuse to contact her, unless he had something to hide?  
  
Numbed to the bone, she could only stare at the floor with sightless eyes and pray that her love and trust had not been demolished by the only man who could wreck it.


	2. Two

Sam grasped the silver flash in his hand, imagined the soft slosh of thick, red liquid, and fought back the bile in his throat. En route to St. Louis for a quick visit with Emma – a stop he’d meant to take for weeks now – and the flask’s contents continually haunted him.  
  
The thing served no purpose except as a reminder of what Ruby thought he was missing: the key that unlocked his abilities, given to him by the demon Azazel for reasons unknown. Ruby had been adamant that he take it. Just before hobbling away to tend to the wounds Alistair’s razor had given, she pressed the container into his hand and whispered, “In case you change your mind.”  
  
Hadn’t he made it clear that he _didn’t_ want her blood around? That his choice had been made, for the sake of his soul and the people he loved? Dean had been right: so had Emma. These powers could only lead him down a dark path, one from which he might never return.  
  
Disgusted – with the demon for pushing, with himself for caving – Sam tossed the flask onto his duffle bag that rested on the passenger side. He refused to think about Ruby’s impatience, especially since he was mere miles from Emma, the only person he wanted to focus on for the next few days.  
  
The thought of her evoked the memory of how perfectly she fit in his arms, how her face would light up when she saw him standing at the door. Even the earful he expected he’d get was a welcome repose, just as long as he could hold her while she played her favorite game of Twenty Questions.  
  
Sam had tried to ignore his deep longing for her, until the pain was so intense he burned. Hopefully she would forgive him for being incommunicado – that his need to protect her from the lethal situation he and Dean were in had been done out of love would somehow vindicate him. His possessiveness would come with a price, namely Emma’s insistence that she know everything right off the bat.   
  
This time, Sam hoped to convince her that there were some things more important than talking.  
  
A glint of metal caught Sam’s eye; he glanced at the flask lying beside him and sighed. More than anything, he wanted to tell her _everything_ – including the nauseating fact of drinking demon blood to grow strong enough to kill Lillith – but shame and rejection held that impulse at bay. Deep down, he hated himself for what he had done and wished to keep it secret from the rest of the world. Worse than that, however, was how much he dreaded Emma’s rejection and judgment. He prayed she would never find out, because he couldn’t bear it. Better to keep her in the dark, like Dean.

Never had there been a more welcome sight than Sam Winchester standing outside her door, wearing a weary yet hopeful smile. Emma forgot about Ruby’s vitriol and lies that had haunted her for days and threw herself into his arms. Sam squeezed her to him, a clear sign that he had missed her just as much, and held her for several moments. Then he pulled back, dipped his head and pressed his mouth against hers.

Emma shut her eyes, all coherent thought gone, and lost herself in him, meeting his hot kisses with equal abandon. Pouring out all the loneliness and desire and need in her heart for him. Her arms went about his neck as the world fell away and only they remained in the cocoon of their desire. Their bodies pressed together, as close as they could while still clothed.

Sam growled his approval against her mouth, his hands sliding down to cup her bottom, pressing her closer against his hardness. For a moment, Emma felt weightless, dizzy from her arousal and his deep, hot kisses. It was then she realized he had picked her up and wrapped her legs about his waist. Pushed against his chest, she clung to him as he moved them backwards into her apartment, pausing only long enough to he could kick the door shut with his foot.

Things were progressing at a fast rate, one that left her caught in a whirlwind of desire and heat. Part of her rational brain broke through the tangled emotion and wondered over Sam’s urgency, why desperation tinged his kisses – the kind that accompanied unspoken despair and confusion.

She pulled back, trying to put her feet on the floor, but Sam wouldn’t let her. He stopped their march towards her bedroom and looked at her. Desire mingled with longing and fear in his dull hazel eyes, something she hadn’t seen in a long time. In fact, he looked weary; lines etched his perfect forehead, signs of intense worry, and there was a coldness about him that hadn’t existed the last time she saw him. It was almost as if he was shell-shocked, like the terrors had gotten the better of him.

“What’s wrong?” she panted.

Sam slipped one hand beneath her shirt. “Not in the mood for Twenty Questions,” he rasped.

Her skin prickled where his fingers touched. With a slight nod of acceptance, she kissed him again, soft kisses that pleaded for time, not urgency, to brand him with her touch and make this time memorable.

Sam followed her lead, deepening their kisses. He walked them into her room and laid her gently on the bed.


	3. Three

After their passion for each other was finally sated, Sam slipped out of bed to dress. Emma propped herself on one elbow and admired his back muscles ripple and flex with his movements. “Anyone ever tell you that you have a fine back?” she asked.  
  
He must have heard the smile in her voice, because he turned around. “My view is better from here.” Sam wore a satisfied grin as his eyes lazily caressed her face, then slipped down her body. Emma could feel the heat of his gaze on her naked flesh, even from beneath the sheet she wore.  
  
Her body answered his appreciative gaze, so she lifted a finger and signaled a ‘come hither’ beckon in his direction. Sam’s grin widened, and he took a step towards her.  
  
Suddenly he pitched forward and almost landed on the corner of her bed. Emma bolted up as Sam let loose a string of curses from the floor.  
  
“Are you okay?” she asked and slipped the sheet around her as she got out of bed.  
  
Sam was on the floor, rubbing his ankle and swearing under his breath. “Yeah, I’ll survive.” He glanced at the floor in front of him. His duffel bag was overturned, its contents spilled out and scattered everywhere. In their passionate haste, Sam had forgotten of its existence once he pulled it off his shoulder and onto the floor. That he had tripped over it was proof.  
  
He glanced back at Emma and flashed a smile. “Who knew you could make me clumsy?”  
  
“Who knew you could make such a mess?” she countered playfully. She scanned the mess on the floor. “I’ll get dressed and help you clean up.” She stood up and reached for her discarded jeans.  
  
Sam tensed, and the air between them changed abruptly. The jovial sensuality was gone, and a wall of fear and irritation lay in its wake. “No,” he protested. “I’ll do it.”  
  
Emma watched as he repositioned himself on the floor and began tossing his things back into the bag in a hurried, almost jerking, motion, stopping only once when he picked up a long, silver flask. His gaze hardened perceptibly as he stared at it for what seemed like an eternity. Disgust flitted across his face, then disappeared when he threw it into the bag. Confused as to the sudden change in demeanor, Emma turned from him to finish dressing.  
  
What was in that flask that he found so hateful? She wondered. He and Dean only used them for holy water or alcohol.  
  
 _Unless it’s got something else in there_ , a voice whispered. In an instant, Ruby’s words came rushing back to her: “One taste of my blood and he practically climaxes.” Was Sam hiding something that he didn’t want her to see? Was Ruby telling the truth, about everything?  
  
The force of realization almost knocked the breath out of her, but Emma beat back the tidal wave of doubt. Instead, she plastered a smile on her lips when she turned back to Sam, who had pulled on a t-shirt. He was staring at her. “What?” she asked.  
  
He said nothing for a moment. “Nothing, you just looked a little . . . “ Sam shook his head and flashed a smile. “Nevermind. Let’s go get food. My treat. I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”

Just then, his phone buzzed.

_219-555-0124_ flashed across the LCD screen, the cell’s ringtone matching the caller’s demands for an immediate answer. Without a second thought, Sam hit the “ignore” button and tossed it onto the coffee table – silencing the call but not the caller. _What do I have to do to get her off my back?_

Sam knew what Ruby wanted, the only thing she had been harping on for weeks: _You’re weak, Sam, and you know what you need to become strong again._ The last thing he wanted now was his demon hanging around . . .

“Everything okay?” Emma’s soft, warm voice broke through the fog that had settled in his mind. He turned to find her seated next to him on the couch.

“You’re a little Ninja-like, anyone ever tell you that?” he asked, a small grin on his lips.

“Once or twice,” Emma said, sliding one of her arms behind him on the back of the couch. He felt her fingers touch the back of his neck. “You didn’t answer my question,” she continued after a moment.

Her steady gaze pierced him, looked into the parts of his soul he didn’t want her to see.

It she only knew what you’ve done, a small voice taunted.

Sam swallowed hard. “Sure, why wouldn’t it be?” he asked.

“Maybe because that’s the sixth call you’ve ignored.” A shadow passed over her face. “You and Dean, y’all aren’t fighting, are you?”

If only, he thought. Dean was probably having the time of his life wherever he was. This brief shore leave meant non-communication, except in emergency cases. Sam preferred it this way: anything to avoid Dean’s constant disapproval and Sam’s persistent guilt over how big a failure he was.

“Nope,” he said and tucked a strand of her silken hair behind her ear. “Dean’s fine. Those are just wrong numbers.” His explanation sounded lame to his ears.

Emma’s look told him that she hadn’t bought it, either. “You might want to answer and, I dunno, tell them to go to hell.”

Sam barked with surprised laughter. “Yeah, I should do that.” The bitch deserves nothing else than a permanent kick downstairs, he thought.

Unfortunately, Ruby had proven to be helpful at times – just enough to make him think twice about killing her. However, he was beginning to think that a face-to-face was the best thing, if for no other reason than to tell her what his continued silence said: _Leave me the hell alone. I’m done with it all_.

“Then why not do it now?” Emma asked, a puzzled yet slightly annoyed look on her face. She shifted slightly and reached for his phone.

Embarrassed, Sam grabbed it before she could get to it and stood up. “It can wait,” he said, pocketing the phone. “We don’t have much time together and . . . I’d like to make the most of it.”

You gotta tell her, the voice of reason whispered inside. She deserves to know what you’re done.

_If I tell her, then she’ll hate me._ Sam considered the silver flask – its contents dumped last night while Emma slept – and winced inwardly. _I’ve never cheated on a woman before. How can I tell her and hurt her like that?_

Look at her, the voice said. She already suspects something.

Sam gazed at Emma and knew her questioning look well. He could almost read her thoughts as she attempted to pull the pieces of his secrets together. She wouldn’t like the answer – and that hurt more than he would ever admit.

Stretching out his hand, he tried to smile. “Come on. Let’s go someplace and make our last night memorable.”

With the touch of a smile on her lips, Emma put her hand in his and stood. Wrapping his arms around her, Sam planted a kiss on the top of her head and vowed to keep her safe – even from himself. Hurting her wasn’t an option.


	4. Four

“So what time do you have to leave in the morning?” Emma asked as she stared at an obviously distracted Sam Winchester from the other side of the table. Her attempt at making casual conversation had failed over the course of the last thirty minutes, but it sure beat sitting like a log and watching him wait for someone else.

At least, the furtive looks he kept casting towards the restaurant door told her the story – and that small action drove the knife in her heart deeper each time it happened.

“Hmm? Oh, probably at first light,” Sam replied after a moment. He flashed a shallow smile, one designed to placate and please.

Unfortunately, Emma had enough. She was tired of beating around the bush, waiting to see whether the man of her dreams would ever confide in her, and prove Ruby wrong on everything the demon claimed Sam had done with her. _I’m tired of being the third wheel in this twosome_. “Sam –”

Just then, Sam’s phone sounded and prevented her from saying anything further. She watched him pull it out and read the screen. Though he attempted to hide his annoyance and fear, Emma read it clearly on his face: his eyebrows pulled together, his lips curled down into a frown, and his cheeks lost their color.

And then, the look was gone, replaced by the false joviality Emma had come to associate with Sam’s shutting her out. She leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms. “Who was the text from?” she asked.

He shrugged. “No one, a hunter.”

“Which one? I might know him.”

“Nah, you wouldn’t.”

When he didn’t continue, she said, “What was it about? Seemed like bad news.”

Sam glanced at the phone still in his hand and shook his head.

_Why the hell won’t he talk to me?_ Thousands of reasons zipped through her mind, but none of them seemed to connect with anything in particular. When they slowed, she once again thought about her conversation with Ruby and fought back the wave of nausea that struck her.

_What is Ruby was telling the truth? What if Sam . . .? How can I come out and ask him, especially since he doesn’t know that Ruby knows who I am?_

Emma took a deep breath to steady herself and glanced down at the meal she had only picked at. The truth was, the demon was right. Sam had done things with Ruby that he wasn’t proud of, and his inability to share them only meant that he didn’t want to hurt Emma. Didn’t he understand, though, that his silence hurt worse than the truth?

Sam must have heard something in her sigh, because he stared at her for a long moment – worry and some unknown deeper emotion touching his features. Emma met his gaze and willed him to confide in her. _Please Sammy, help me to help you work through this._

Suddenly, Sam’s gaze shifted over her head and towards the entrance to the restaurant. Emma watched his face harden.

“Wait here,” he said gruffly. Before she could open her mouth to ask what was going on, he had stood and moved away from the table.

Emma turned to see his retreating figure heading straight for a short, petite brunette lurking in the shadows by the hostess stand. A woman who claimed to be Sam’s lover and demonic blood dealer – whose words had screwed with her mind the second Emma heard them.

And as Ruby slipped her hand up Sam’s sleeve, closing the space between them – her body language screaming sexual innuendo – Emma received all the verification that proved the demon’s assertions. In the end, Emma hadn’t been enough.

This knowledge – combined with his recent silence and weird behavior – crushed her already heavy heart. She waited – longed – to escape, because the room had begun to spin in different directions, pinning her to her seat as she gasped silently for air. Her body was lead: it refused to move.

Instead, she sat and watched as Sam attempted to resist Ruby’s advances – the gentle touches to his chest, his hip – the way she pressed a shiny object into his hand and held it until he seemingly acquiesced. The way she shot Emma a triumphant look and pressed a lingering kiss to Sam’s lips, and then sauntered back out the door.

Unwilling to clue Sam into the fact that she had witnessed the exchange, Emma righted herself in her seat. Inside, Emma wept, screamed, died, from the pain of Sam’s betrayal. _He’s shut you out. That can only mean he doesn’t want you anymore. It’s what you get for falling in love with a hunter, you damn fool. You knew this was a road to nowhere._

She tried tuning out the taunting voice which sounded so much like Ruby, but the words reverberated in her head.

Trying not to let her anguish show, she plastered a smile on her face when he returned to his seat. Please don’t see it, she begged him silently. Not yet.

“Sorry about that,” he said in a carefully even voice, not looking at her. “That was a . . . friend. She had to bring me something.”

Emma wanted to laugh. _She brought something, alright: the space between us, the one you made and widened._


End file.
